Just Shut Up Already!
by ScoobyGal55
Summary: Annoying people, Oblivious friends and Daddy issues, oh my! Chloe deals with death threats, her friend's winking boyfriend, abandonment issues, and a crush on a certain farm boy in a week that is quickly turning into her worst.
1. Chloe, Trusted Friend and Lap Dog

Just Shut Up Already!

By ScoobyGal55

Disclaimer: I don't own it… because if I did the show would have been off the air for the past two years due to my sudden need to put my fanfiction of on hiatus.

Summary: Chloe's having a little trouble with this best friend thing. Even she doesn't know how she manages to put up with everybody.

A/N: I haven't written a fanfiction in a long time. Don't go back and look at my other work because they aren't exactly what I'd call… you know… what's that word?.. oh yeah… good. I liked the stories but they way they were executed were not good at all.

Okay, I'm having one of those mornings where you swear that it's a Saturday when in fact it's a Monday. It's kind of like those days that you find a hair in the breakfast you made only to realize it isn't yours, only worse.

It's Monday morning, I have an English paper due, and there's an old man standing behind me trying to look up my skirt. Come on! He's already tied his left shoe twice!

If it weren't for that beautiful yellow vehicle coming my way, I'd do something I might regret. I once heard that hitting the elderly was frowned upon.

I step onto the bus and suddenly remember why I begged my father to help me pay for a car. That was, of course, before he had been fired, otherwise such a suggestion would have been horribly rude. Right now, though, I wouldn't mind being horribly rude.

Okay, Chloe, so what if your car is broken? So what if it'll cost 800 dollars that you don't have to fix it? So what if all the freshman on this bus look like they haven't showered in a while? It's not the end of the world.

That's right. I just have to think positively while the bus makes it's last stop before heading to school. I'll think about sitting in front of my computer typing up an article for the paper while the kid who is sitting besides me puts his finger up his nose. I'll think about my bright future in Metropolis and no where near Smallville while I walk onto school grounds to another dull day of school. I'll think about Clark.

"Clark."

He spins around and gives me that dopey look he always gives me when he's been snooping around where he shouldn't be, or doing something he shouldn't be doing. I take a quick glance to see if everything in the newspaper office is in its place.

"Hey, Clo."

"Hey, yourself." I say. I instantly regret it. Why do I always say stupid things? Why does he have to be so pretty.

"I was wondering…," he starts. Were you wondering if I'd go out with you? Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, ye- "Would you help me check out this lead I got?"

Oh God, I'm pathetic. "Lead on what?"

"Well as you know, Lionel's been released." As I know? Of course I know. I've had nightmares ever since I heard. It's always the same. He follows me out of school. I stop and he tells me that I should have kept my mouth shut. He tells me that I'm going to wish that I had died when he first went after me. And then I nod, because I believe him. When I wake up I immediately have to shower to get rid of the smell of sweat. Yes Clark, I know. "He's contacted me and told me that he was going to look for the real murderer of his parents to prove himself innocent. He sent me this notebook and…."

He goes on but I block him out. Frankly, I don't care if Lionel didn't murder his parents, even though he told me so himself. I don't care if he never tried to kill Lex or put him in a mental institution for getting to close to the truth. Right now, I'm just afraid for my life. Because even if he didn't do any of that, he still tried to kill me.

But I don't say any of that, because I'm Chloe, trusted friend and lap dog! Like a super hero.

"Sure, I'll help."

He smiles and my heart melts.

Then Lana comes in and it stiffens a little.


	2. Don't Even Get Me Started On Lana

Just Shut Up Already!

Disclaimer: Mmhmm. Leave me alone. I'm sleepy. I don't own anything. Not the characters. Not the story. Not the computer that I'm typing on. Not even the cardboard box I sleep in.

Summary: Chloe is having trouble with this best friend thing. Clark is so obsessed with saving people, that he forgets about good ol' Chloe and ends up hurting her the most. Until he smiles… then who really cares what he does? And Lana… argh… don't even get her started on Lana.

A/N: Sometimes it's scary being me.

Don't even get me started on Lana!

"Oh Chloe. I didn't expect to see you here," she says to me.

Really? Because I've been told by many that they thought I actually lived in this room. No, no, no. Lana's right. I'm usually outside playing soccer or flirting with guys, not stocking up on my journalistic ambition.

Okay calm down before you speak. No need to get short with her because you are feeling angry.

"Oh, I-"

"I wanted to talk to you, Clark," she says. She goes into the 'Chloe isn't in the room' mode that she's so good at. "I know I've been distant lately."

"You don't need to apologize to me Lana. I know what you've been going through."

Going through? 'Oh no, I got a B on a test! Clark, hold me.'

"That doesn't excuse the way I've treated you. First with the accusations that you got Jason fired. And then getting angry with you because you still won't tell me whatever secret you've been hiding from me." Again, with this secret thing. For the love of God, I'm a journalist who is constantly seeking for the truth and even I'm over it. "But now that Jason is gone, I feel like I need some comfort, support, and lots of space."

What? That doesn't even make any sense.

"I'm so tired of being betrayed by people I trust. I loved Jason and he wouldn't even tell me the real reason he left. I thought maybe he would have talked to you before he left."

"Lana, you know he didn't"

"Ever since Paris he had been acting strange. I think he may have left Smallville for a different reason besides me."

Because why would anybody want to leave Miss Perfect Lang?

"I'll be searching for the answers to all of my questions." All while keeping her hair in it's perfect condition. " And I'd like you to help me."

Blah, blah, blah. Jason, Jason, Jason. Clark, Clark, Clark.

"Lana, you've already told this all to me. I promised I'd help you."

Don't laugh. Don't laugh. It is not funny. It isn't funny. I need to leave this room before I break into hysterics.

"Oh I know," she says matter- of- factly. " I just wanted to remind you."

"Oh" Clark says. Sweet dear Clark. Are you holding in laughter as I am now?

"We need to get to the bottom of this."

Just shut up already!

"I need to see why he betrayed me, why there has been a bitter pattern of heartbreak."

Stop thinking like this Chloe. She's your best friend. You're just angry because Clark is looking at her with the same love sick eyes that I give him.

"Lana," I say. "I'll help you if you want." See, I'm bigger then my anger.

My early New Years Resolution: stop being cynical.

"Oh Chloe. I forgot you were here!"

I'll start tomorrow.


	3. Yellow Demon

Just Shut Up Already!

Disclaimer: The Creator of Smallville once said "Claim my art and thou shall smite you." And to that I say, "No, please."

Summary: Chloe is having trouble with this best friend thing. She doesn't want to get upset, but come on! A madman who once tried to kill her is on the loose. Not that she's scared or anything. Nope. Not scared. Just don't turn the lights off or she might scratch your eyes out.

A/N: Hey, thanks for all the reviews. Yes this does take place after Lana went to Paris hence the mention of Jason. Get it? Got it? Good. As for BabayAngel82, I do appreciate the review. I do like the show. And nope, you weren't the only one to review. Actually, according to my emails you were the third to review. If people aren't reviewing or reading I highly doubt that it's because I hate the show. And if it is, then those people are mistaken. Anyway, on with the story. Some reviews are mocked, some are praised, and all reviews will be appreciated. BTW… half the chapter was deleted when I first uploaded and I have to rewrite now. Crappity crap crap!

I'm an idiot.

That's right. An idiot. I should be living in the hills having my Daddy's baby. Or maybe running for President.

Hehehe.

Nothing like a good politics joke to get you ready for the rest of your miserable day. I especially like the joke about the republican and the rabbi. How does that one go again?

Wait. Where was I?

Oh yeah. I'm an idiot.

First I agree to help Clark with his mission. One I totally don't agree with, but I'm not getting into that right now. Then, I offer to help Lana with hers. I offer. I don't get asked. I don't get hints telling me to offer. I offer out of free will. Now, I'm going to be swamped with work that I not need or want to do.

It's not like this is my senior year of high school. It's not like I'm swamped with homework. It's not like I'm busy with work as the editor of the school newspaper. Its not like I'm not content with my own inquires about Jason, Lionel, and Smallville's own Lex Luthor.

And my mother.

I think I may have pushed Clark away by telling him about her. I was a fool to think he'd care that the woman I thought abandoned me was really locked up in an insane asylum.

Or maybe he doesn't want to bring it up in fear that I'll break into tears. Nobody likes a weeper.

I'll worry about that later. Right now, I have to get through this last class. So far I think I've achieved the 'deep-in-thought' look, but I don't know how much longer I can pretend to think about Walt Whitman. I get it already! He was deep! Get on with it.

"Now, class," Miss LeMonte says. "Do you know see why metaphors about nature is so important in the world of poetry? In a poets mind nature is just about equivalent to our own existences. Plus, it's kind of sexy." And now I know why her name is Miss LeMonte and not Mrs. LeMonte.

The bell rings and I dash out of the classroom. Was there homework? Jeez, maybe I should go back.

My legs aren't stopping so I'm taking that as a sign.

I manage to get a good seat on the bus. I start my homework and secretly pray that this thing stops near The Talon.

"Chloe Sullivan is taking the bus? I cannot believe my eyes."

I look up and feign a smile. I don't much feel like smiling. And I don't much feel like smiling at him.

"Hey Lex."

"Get off that thing."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll give you a ride."

Goody! "Oh, I don't know. My dad always told me not to ride in cars with strange men."

"Well, then… I'll just leave."

Swallow your pride, Chloe.

"Wait." He smiles. I imagine that all the Luthors that have ever existed and all the Luthors that will ever exist will all posses that same smile. It says "Ahh! I've got you!" Lionel used that same smile when he tried to extract dirt about Clark from me.

I step off the bus, giving up my good seat and take an even better seat a few feet away. He drives off. I smile as we pass the bus. Now if I rob a bank or sell my soul I can get that 800 dollars to get my car back and I'll never have to ride that demon bus again.

"So, what were you doing at Smallville High, anyway?" I ask.

"Business." Clark hand down your crown. The new king of vague has been found.

"I won't pry."

"You won't? What happened to the Chloe Sullivan who had to know everything?"

"It's this new thing I'm trying. I think they call it tact."

"Ah. I see." He keeps his eyes on the road. Good thing too because he does because I've heard a thing or two about his driving skills. Not so good. "So, I suppose you've heard."

I know what he's talking about. The figure that haunts my nightmares is out on the loose. Right about now he's probably strangling puppies and starving orphans. Pure evil is his name. But as of now, he goes by the name of Lionel.

"Heard what?"

"My father's out of jail."

"Oh yes," I say. I put my finger to my chin. "I believe I heard that somewhere." See I can still be humorous in times of complete anguish.

Lex tries to stifle a grin. I gotcha mister! Can't pull that Lone Ranger Serious Dude act on me! He notices that I noticed and puts his straight face on.

"You know, Chloe. If you ever need to talk or feel that you're in danger, you know that I'm here for you."

I'm astonished. Somebody there for me. Unheard of!

"Thanks."

"I know what it's like to be afraid. I know what it's like to hear a noise and then to pray that it was on the creak in your step. I know how it feels under the wrath of my father."

I try my hardest not to let my jaw hangs. If I didn't know better, I'd say somebody's been reading my diary. Not that I'd put it pass a Luthor to read my diary, I just don't keep one.

"Lex you don't know how much this means. Sometimes I feel like-"

"He's a cold heartless man."

That's okay. I didn't need to finish my sentence.

"For example, one time I had a birthday party that didn't exactly go my way. I was understandably disappointed, but did he care?"

Wait. What's happening here?

"No. He didn't."

He's joking, right? I look over to him. Nope, not joking.

"He told me that I was embarrassing him! I was embarrassing him! I know, I know. I should have told him about the countless times he-"

What do I do? Listen? Nod politely? Jump out of the car?

"For example, he once told a nanny that I wet the bed. I didn't. But even if I did, how would he know? It's not like I saw him everyday. He was the phantom ghost of my life. I-"

Maybe he'll get into a car accident. He'll shut up then. Or maybe he'll bite his tongue. Or better yet, Lionel can jump out in front of the car, yell "You Embarrass Me!," cause a car accident, and therefore causing Lex to bite his tongue and shut up!

"He'd always shake his finger and say-"

I look around. We're in town, but I can't see Lionel. There is no oncoming traffic. And this man sitting beside me has a great talent for mass speaking.

"He had the audacity to tell me that I was overreacting!"

"Lex."

He seems jolted. Maybe he forgot I was here.

"Yes?"

"You can let me out here."

He looks to see where we are. I look too. Tony's Hardware Shoppe. Who the hell came up with that name?

"You need a screw driver?"

"A hammer, actually. For all my hammering." So that the next time you go on and on like that I can bash my head in.

"Oh okay. I'll wait for you."

"That's okay. I'll be fine. I'll see you later." I walk into the shop. Or should I say shoppe? I wait until his shiny red car is a safe distance away. I leave the shop. The Talon should only be a ten-minute walk from here.

I should have taken the bus.


	4. Coffee, Black

Just Shut Up Already!

Disclaimer: My lawyer tells me that if I don't slap a standard disclaimer above my fanfiction I might get sued. Oh no! That means they might take my 30-dollar mattress and my whole comic book collection. Well, I'm not going down with out a fight!

Summary: Stop me if you've heard this one before… A spunky blonde walks into a coffeehouse. She tries to get some time sensitive work done, but is interrupted more then a few times. Then she runs into an unexpected familiar face. She fails to see the punch line.

A/N: Please remind me how great I am. I never tire of hearing it. Tell me how my technical problems of the last chapter was none of my fault. Tell me that I am your inspiration. Tell me that the bill collectors knocking at my door are just jealous of my talent. After all, I am an attention whore. Or at least that's what Mrs. Kimberly told me. Those kindergarten teachers think they know everything. All joking aside, thanks for the reviews.

It's four o' clock. I've got about six hours before curfew hits. I can probably knock that back an hour, give or take, if I sweet-talk my father. So that gives me seven hours to complete all my homework, finish my article about insects in the cafeteria, do some research for Clark and Lana so that I don't look like I'm shirking on my cough responsibilities to them, and then find eight hundred dollars to get my car out of the shop so I won't have to take the bus or hope that a rich, mute man feels the need to pick up a hitchhiker.

I take my usual seat in my usual coffee shop. I take out the laptop that took me three summers to save up for and put it on the table. And I begin to type. This is good.

Type, type, type.

Hmmm… I'm really smart.

Type, type, type.

And witty!

Type, type, type.

Cross that out. I'm a witty genius. There must be something wrong with Clark if he doesn't want a fine catch like myself.

Type, type, type.

Oh nevermind. This is crap.

I delete the article and start over again.

"Chloe, would you like something to drink?" Martha asks me. I look up, pausing from my vigorous typing. If I don't get arthritis eventually, I'm becoming a born again Christian.

Martha is wearing the green Talon apron. I manage not to laugh. I will never get use to Clark's mother serving caffeine beverages to all of his friends and classmates. She smiles at me and waits for my answer.

"Sure." She waits some more and I remember that I have to tell her what it is that I want. She's not a mind reader, Chloe. Or is she? Oh jeez, get your mind off of the supernatural and order some coffee! "Coffee. Black."

"Black?"

"Yeah, it's going to be a long night."

She nods and says, "Okay, coming right up."

Type, type, type.

Martha comes back with my drink. I wait 'till she leaves to down it. It's already been a long day, I hardly want to be lectured right now. If coffee really does stunt your growth it's already too late for me.

I finish my article. Suddenly I feel like I can accomplish anything. This is a good feeling.

"Chloe Sullivan?" somebody asks. I look up from my computer. I don't recognize this person.

"That's me."

The girl sits in front of me. "I thought so," she says. She just sits there. I just sit here. We begin what seems to me to be a staring contest. I win, as always. Years of staring at the computer trained me.

"Aha!" I say in triumph.

"Is this a game to you?" she asks. Well, I don't think that staring contests constitute as jobs so... "Sullivan! You ruined my family!"

Okay, so I guess she doesn't want my autograph.

"Excuse me?"

"If it hadn't have been for your article on the toxic waste dumping, my father would still have his job. Now we have to leave Smallville and move to Metropolis."

Leave Smallville? She should be thanking me.

"Well maybe, he shouldn't have poisoned our drinking water. A baby was born with a six inch tail for god's sake!"

She huffs away. Martha comes back and refills my drink. She doesn't lecture me and I'm thankful.

By the time I finish my math homework, I feel much better then I had earlier. It's amazing what some solitude can do for you.

I take a sip of my third cup of coffee, when my phone rings. "Hello?"

"Miss Sullivan?"

"Speaking."

"This is Bob from Bob's" Bob's is the local mechanics. They're the reason I'll probably have to go to community college. They also fix toasters. "Your car's ready."

This isn't good. "What? Bob! You were going to hold onto it until I could get the funds to pay for it. You said that you couldn't fix it until you had the money. You said it!"

"Calm down, Miss," he says. Is he kidding me? If he tells me that he's going to sell my car to some guy or have it impounded, screw the law. I'll kill him. "It's paid for."

Paid for? How is that possible? Who would have the money to pay for the car that knows about my transportation troubles?

Luthor!

I'm so going to kill him. Who does he think he is? My father? I don't think so. He needs to stop trying to be the town hero by using his money to buy people. I can't be bought! Not for eight hundred dollars at least.

"Is the person who paid for my car still there?"

"Yes, Miss. He is. He said he wanted to wait until you got here, so that you can thank him in person."

I am going to tear him a new one.

It takes me an hour to get over to Bob's. The bus was crowded and my faith in humanity has dropped a little. Why, oh why, don't people shower?

Bob is standing outside. He doesn't look happy. "I was suppose to close half an hour ago."

"Sorry, Bob. No car, remember?"

He's not going to forgive me, but hopefully I'll never have to see him again. "Is Mr. Luthor still here?" I ask.

"Yes, Miss. Still here." He points inside. I follow in that direction.

"Boy, Lex, are you in some trouble!" I say. But I'm mistaken. It isn't Lex at all. Wrong Luthor.

I take a step back. "I'm afraid you have my mistaken my younger, less attractive self."

Less attractive, my ass. I take another step back. I don't need a car. I'll walk to school. Yeah. I'll get up at five and take a nice long stroll. It's good exercise.

He takes a step forward. There's no way I'm walking to school. Because I'll probably be dead before tomorrow morning.

I fumble through my purse. I know my mace is here some where. Damn it! I need a smaller purse!

"Miss Sullivan, you look frightened," he says. Damn right. I'd respond but I can't seem to open my mouth. "There is no need to worry."

Ha! "Ha!" Okay, so I managed to open my mouth. Maybe not the wisest choice in words.

"The car payment is just a series of apologies that I will be issuing you."

I take another step back and my back hits the door. The doorknob hits my middle back and I close my eyes for a split second in pain.

"Chloe, I'm just here to help you!"

"I don't want your help, you murderer!" I manage to spit out. The word murderer hits him hard. Did he just flinch?

"Chloe, I know that you're afraid, I do. But you need to listen to me." He steps forward again, too close for comfort. But then again being within 30 miles of Lionel Luthor is too close for comfort. "I'm here to help you.

"I'm afraid your life is in terrible danger."


	5. Conversations With My Car

Just Shut Up Already!

Disclaimer: Blah. Blah. Blah.

Summary: Did you see that last chapter? Wasn't that just awesome? Yeah, I know. Okay, so Chloe has her car back. She turns the ignition and… BOOM!

A/N: I swear, there's a flock of wild parrots flying around my town, squawking very loudly. It sounds fake, but it's true. Apparently, 50 years ago they escaped from a pet store in Pasadena and now they've multiplied. So, because of those beautiful but scary birds, I keep having nightmares of my face being pecked so badly that I look inside out. Enjoy!

"Your life is in terrible danger."

"You've already said that."

"Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" Lionel Luthor asks me.

"Yes, you're saying that you're going to kill me." I say. "But I've got a witness! I've got Bob!"

I look around for Bob, but he has already scrammed. I'm about to have a panic attack. I can't breath. Wait… what does a heart attack feel like again?

From the corner of my eye I can see a video security camera, but knowing Bob, it's probably not recording.

"No, Chloe, you're mistaken. I have no intention in harming you."

When I die, I hope my dad knows… wait. Did I hear that right?

"I don't believe you."

"You have no reason to trust me, but I ask that you do. Somebody wants you dead, and for once it's not me."

He backs away and leans against the counter where the cash register is held. I wonder if he's robbed it yet. I take a deep breath and sit in one of the plastic chairs that Bob keeps for his paying customers to sit in. He has told me many times that until I paid for my car services, I wasn't allowed to sit. But screw him, he left me alone with a murderer.

I bury my head in my hands. "I'm so confused."

"I know you are. I was too, at first. While in prison, I had a period of amnesia. Suddenly all of the hate I felt for you and Clark and even my own son vanished. I feel the need to help people. I want to help people. I want to atone for all my wrongdoing. That's why, when I heard about a hit out on you, I came to you almost immediately."

"A hit out on me? Yeah I knew about that." I say. "After all, you're the one who put it out on me."

"No, Chloe. The day the change happened to me, I made my calls and put an end to that. I'm a changed man, Miss Sullivan. Please allow me to help you."

I'm at a loss of words. I just sit in the uncomfortable plastic chair in silence. Why did I ever want to sit here? Why would Bob make it sound like a privilege?

I stand up. "Do whatever you want. Just don't contact me again." I walk out. He follows.

"Chloe! You forgot your car." I turn around. He throws the keys to me. He leaves. Didn't he know that he was suppose to watch me stalk away in anger? Whatever.

I'm not going in that car. I can't trust it. I start to walk away. Then I catch a glimpse of her, my beautiful car. She's shiny and just begging me to get in.

"Don't leave me, Chloe," she says. "I'm nice and comfy. I have a new car smell freshener. You love that smell, Chloe."

"Oh car, you know me better then anybody," I say.

"Do you know what it's like to be lonely, Chloe? I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, car."

"You know that you don't want to ride that smelly ugly stupid bus again. You want to ride in me."

"Oh, I don't know, car. Riding in you would be like excepting a gift from a Luthor. Worse, a Lionel Luthor."

"Come on. I've got all your favorite radio stations programmed into me just like you like them."

"Oh, car, you sure do know what a girl likes." I jump in the car. Yes, I know. I've just had a conversation with a car. Hello, Mom? Can you hear me? I'll be staying to live with you in the asylum very soon.

I put the keys in the ignition. I pause. You know what, he didn't fix the car. Bob did. Bob doesn't want to kill me. He's a good mechanic with good morals. His cars hardly ever blow up. Unless Whitney Fordman, Lex Luthor, or Jonathan Kent are the drivers.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes and turn the ignition and… and… nothing happens. My car makes a beautiful Vroom noise. "I love you, car," I say.

I drive out into the beautiful night.


	6. What Ever You Do, Don't Lie!

Just Shut Up Already!

Disclaimer: I don't own the story, the names, or the characters, except Bob. But I think Bon owns more of me then I own of him.

Summary: Whew! Chloe isn't dead! Aren't you relieved? You don't even have to read the chapter, just scroll down and look at all the fancy words while you think about how great it is that I haven't killed off any characters. For surely… LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL!

A/N: I love fanfictions about Clark and his friends becoming magicians (or even racecar drivers…). I don't read them or anything. But the summaries are pretty funny. (Also the reviews… "when be the time that clark and lana love each other w/ magik?" "i love that the story has puppies. CLRK & LNA 4EVR!") Sorry, I couldn't help myself.

I almost asked Dad if I could sleep in the car last night. But I don't want him to think that I'm crazy. So I parked the car where I could see it from my bedroom window. I stared at her for an hour before I decided to sleep. I love that car. I missed her so much. No more demon bus. No more taking rides from guys with daddy issues.

It was a bitch to find my car in the morning. Like an idiot, I forgot last night's sign of devotions, because today's a Tuesday, which is almost as bad as Monday. Only one day has passed from this horrible week and I'm already swamped with more work then I've had all year and have had a death threat on my life.

I'm not even going to worry about that death threat. A death threat doesn't have a Thursday deadline, but my English paper does. Not that I really believe that somebody wants to kill me. Sure, people have tried to kill me more then I can count, but this time I doubt it. Lionel Luthor wants me to be afraid. He wants me to beg him for help.

I won't do it.

I won't grovel. I won't beg. I won't be afraid of him. I was afraid to turn on my beautiful car, my best friend, my most trusted confidant. I learned that if I'm afraid, I'm not happy. I want to be happy. Life is beautiful and deserves to be treated as such.

That's my motto from now on. My other motto is To Smack Lana Lang Would Be Mean, Unnecessary and Possibly Hilarious.

I walk into my favorite place in the school, sit down in front of my computer and put my stuff down. If I start to work on the paper, I have an excuse for not being in first period, which, as Martha Stewart would say, is a good thing.

I begin to format the front page when Clark walks in. And what a nice walk it is. He has this strut like none other. He also always has that one backpack strap over his shoulder. He's so dreamy.

"Hi Clark."

"Hi Chloe. How's it going?"

"Good, good. You?"

"Good."

This is a nice conversation. He smiles, I smile. We just talk about normal stuff like normal kids in normal high schools do. But I'm about to ruin it.

"I got my car back."

"That's great, Chloe!" Is that real enthusiasm or is he mocking me? It seems genuine. Am I blushing? I hope I'm not blushing. Jeez, I'm such a girl.

"Thing is, I didn't pay for it."

"Lex?"

"Nope, guess again." He's stumped. He leans in closer. I want him to get far, far away from me before I jump him. "Our favorite murderer. Well he's at least a close second. I was always fond of Jack the Stripper."

"Jack the Stripper?"

"Nevermind."

"So, Lionel bought your car for you. That's nice of him."

What???? "What?"

"He's trying to atone for attempting to kill you."

"Oh, well that's nice of him" I say, punching him in the face with my sarcasm. It hasn't had a work out in a while but it still hits him hard.

I think about telling him about my supposed hit man, but I keep my mouth shut. Unless… maybe I can get a hug or two if I pull out some tears. No. Well if… No!

"Did you find anything out from that notebook he gave you?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No. I was going to check out some leads but then Pete called. We were talking for a while and I lost track of time."

Ahhh Pete… Don't get me started on Pete. He left Smallville, and that was the last I heard from him. He told Clark to tell me his new phone number and his new address. He told Clark to say 'hi' for him every time he calls, but I've yet to get a phone call. I called once, left a message, and never got a phone call back. But I'm not bitter.

"Well did you at least finish the article about the renovations on the gym?"

"Oh, Chlo… I forgot." I take a deep breath. "I'll finish it tod-," he starts to say. But he's interrupted. Come on, people who listen into my thoughts. I know you're there. Can you guess who would walk in and take Clark's attention away from me? That's right, my mind readers! Lana.

"Clark! Chloe!" she says. At least she acknowledged my existence. Lets see how long that lasts. "Chloe, did you find anything on Jason?"

Crap! I talk to her all the time, but seldom anything I say sticks in her head. She has to go and remember this! I once had this long conversation with her in which I wasn't sure if she was listening to me, so I told her that I had been abducted by aliens the previous day. She nodded and smiled.

"Oh yeah." I say. "About that…"

She twitches a little. Oh God, she's going to explode. 'Chloe not doing everything I ask, why I never!'

"I didn't find that much." The twitching stops and I take in a deep breath. "Um…" I search around the rooms for answers, but I get nothing. "Well, Jason spoke to his mother the day before… and… um… he decided that he needed to find out who his family really is." That seems like a safe bet.

"That makes sense," she says. I guess I'm good at making things up. "Thanks, Chloe. You keep researching and I'll think about what you've told me."

She glances at Clark, flips her hair, and she's gone.

"Clark, finish that article and have it on my desk by-" But it's no use. He's gone.

I sigh and sit in front of my computer. I've worked my magic on the keyboard for about thirty minutes, when the room phone rings. I freeze. I'm not exactly suppose to be in this room without a teacher supervisor, but I don't even think that we have a supervisor.

I answer the phone, hoping it isn't somebody checking up on me. I can't deal with people right now.

"Chloe Sullivan?"

"Speaking."

"How many times have I told you not to have your mail sent to the school?"

Ouch. Right. I forgot to change my mailing address. I usually just use email but in the rare times that I need a hard copy of something, I have it sent to the school so that my dad doesn't accidentally throw my mail away.

"Sorry, Mrs. Talbot. I'll be right down. Last time, I promise."

She makes a noise of disbelief and hangs up. I make my way to the office, trying to remember if I've ordered anything. As far as I know, I haven't.

"Here," Mrs. Talbot says, as she hands me a small envelope. The envelope has my name on it, but that's it. I don't wait to leave the office before opening it.

The writing is neat. Beautiful even. The top is dated with yesterday's date. I read it. Read it again. And then read it again.

"Have a nice week," it says. "Because it's your last. See you on Friday."

Great. Just great.


	7. Clark The Bravest Turtle Of Them All

Just Shut Up Already!

Disclaimer: Blah. Blah. Blah. Nobody reads these anyway.

Summary: So, on top of everything, Chloe has to deal with a death threat. She's not even angry or upset or anything. Just envious that some guy has the time to write death threats. If only she was that lucky.

A/N: Be kind. Rewind. (Review doesn't rhyme, but reviewing fanfiction is, like, a thousand times cooler then rewinding a fanfiction.)

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I can't stop laughing. I suppose it looks odd, walking down the hall, tears of nonstop laughter falling down the sides of my face. This is too funny! Why isn't anybody else laughing?

Well, they probably haven't seen the note. If they had, they'd be standing right beside me, laughing their asses off.

What's that you say? You don't see the humor in this? You don't understand why a death threat on my life is a laugh riot? Well if you're that curious, I'll tell you.

It's not like this is the first threat on my life. And if this guy is serious, it also won't be the first attempt on my life. But this is certainly the first time the would-be killer actually wants me to have a good week. My best friends don't even want me to have a good week.

Who woulda thunk it? A considerate killer.

I stop laughing.

Maybethis isn't that funny. I guess you had to be there.

So what to do? Investigate who would want me dead? No, I already have way much to do. Ignore it? Well, I don't exactly want to die, so cross that off too. Bring the note to the cops? So far, this is my leading choice. Let somebody else do the work for once. I'll just march all the way over to the police station and… crap! I can't.

Damn it! I have an English assignment due.

Sigh. I'll just have somebody turn it in for me and… crap! I can't.

Damn it! Miss LeMonte says that if I miss another day of class, she'll flunk me.

Sigh. I'll just go after school. That will be easier and… crap! I can't.

Damn it! I have to finish up the front page of The Torch before 4:30.

Sigh. I don't know what I'm going to do… wait. Perfect! I'm a genius. I spot Clark and rush over to him.

"Clark, I need you to help me with something," I say. He's staring into space, but as soon as I finish my sentence, he jolts out of his trance. I turn my head to see what he as been staring at.

"Lana, I know I just rushed out on you a few days ago. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am," Jason says. Jason. Oh no. If he tells her why he left, she's going to know that I didn't actually find anything out and that I lied to her to get her out of my hair. " I want to tell you why I left."

Here it comes.

"Go ahead, Jason. I'm ready to listen."

Lana? Listen? No way!

"Before I left, I spoke with my mom. And… um… I just needed to find out some stuff about my family."

Now she's going to tell me about what a bad friend I am… and… wait. Did he just say exactly what I told her?

"So I heard," she says. It's official, I am the best guesser ever! "I'm so glad you told me. I told you how important honesty is to me. I once had a boyfriend who never told me the full truth about anything," she glances at Clark. I can't exactly explain his response, but lets just say that if he was a turtle, he would have just hid in his shell. I think of my possible death to stop from laughing again. "so that's why it's so special that you'd come back from your journey to find the truth just to tell me in person."

Yes, Jason. Are you too good for the phone?

"I'm glad you understand Lana." He gives her a very intimate kiss and walks away.

He comes toward our direction and gives Clark a nod of recognition. Clark nods back, but then immediately turns to his locker and sinks into it. Before passing us completely, Jason gives me a wink. I turn to Clark and try to finish what I had to say before I'm late for English.

Wait. What?

Did Jason just wink at me?

What does that mean? Did he just say all of that stuff about where he was because he knew I said it? Was the wink his way of telling me that I had one less thing to do this week? Does he know about who sent the note?

Or does he just think I look foxy in this skirt?

I wish I had time to think more about it, but Jason choose a very hectic period of time to wink at me and induce this horrible confusion in my mind. Sorry, Jason, buddy. There's just no time to be confused. Not this week, anyway.

Clark brings his head out of his locker and slams it shut. His cheeks are blushed. Oh he's just too cute when he's embarrassed!

"Chloe, I'm so sorry about the article. I'll stay up all night if that's what it takes and write it."

I smile. I'm still upset, but I can tell that he feels genuine guilt and there is no reason to make him feel miserable. "Thanks Clark. I appreciate it. But right now, I need you to do me a favor."

"Anything."

Love me! "I need you to take this note," I shove the envelope into his chest. I get a nice feel before pulling my hand back. " and bring it to the police and tell them that somebody is trying to kill me. And then finish that article as soon as you can because I have a deadline to meet!"

I head towards my English class. Clark jumps in front of me. Man this kid is fast.

"Somebody is trying to kill you?"

"Yeah, and boy did he choose a bad time. I've got work up the wazoo."

"Chloe, this is serious."

"I know, Clark, but I was never one for a moment without a quip or two."

He doesn't smile. He keeps his serious face on. "I can't lose you again, Chloe."

"Because then who will help you out with investigative reports and edit your articles."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Your spelling is horrible."

He tries to hide his smile. Yes! I am the quip queen and a master guesser! How can one person be as cool as me? Who would want to kill a talented person like myself?

"I'll bring this to the police station right now, but after school, we need to do some investigating of our own," he says. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I agree but there is no way that I'm getting any further in this case. Let the police handle it. It's their job to save my life, not mine.

That didn't come out right. Anyway…

The late bell rings. Damn! I rush to class and hope that Miss LeMonte goes temporarily blind. She doesn't.

"Miss Sullivan! Late again. What is your excuse this time?"

"Somebody wants me dead."

She sighs. "Is it Bigfoot? Or maybe aliens?"

"Bigfoot? Maybe. But I don't believe in aliens."

"Just sit down, Miss Sullivan. My patience is wearing down."

"I'm sorry, Miss LeMonte. I was just kidding," I say. "I really do believe in aliens."


	8. Monday Clark meet Tuesday Clark

Just Shut Up Already!

Disclaimer: I don't own Cher. I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don't own NBC. None of which appear in this story.

Summary: Come on. Even I don't know what this story is about. Would anybody like to fill me in?

A/N: Read, review, and then realize that life is the greatest Christmas gift there is. Wow, that sounded way more religious then I'd hoped. Don't worry, I'm Jewish. And I'm not going to convert you. Thanks to Madonna we already have too many people.

I'm in the principal's office because Miss LeMonte hates women with free individual spirits. And because a certain blonde teenager just doesn't know when to stop talking. That's what I'm trying to explain. It's not my fault that my brain isn't connected to my mouth. But that doesn't matter, apparently. My disease isn't in any medical book and therefore invalid.

So I have trash pickup tomorrow. That's right. Somebody on the Kansas School Board finally got a copy of The Breakfast Club and now Saturday detentions have been deleted from Smallville High's list of punishments. So now I have a detention fit for an inmate.

I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. Okay I care. I really don't want to clean up trash of the kind of people I had to ride the bus with yesterday. I don't want to even think about what kind of trash smelly people have.

I leave the principal's office and run into The Torch office. Nobody's inside. I am completely alone. I sit down in front of my computer. I am completely alone. I don't have anybody. Mom is gone. My friends are duds (although earlier Clark was the friend that I always have sweaty dreams about.) I am filled with work that I really don't want to do. And I may not live to see the next and possibly worse week.

I am so tired. Go ahead, mystery note writer. Kill me. I'm done.

I am completely alone.

The door opens. Great, just great.

"Hi, Lana."

"Chloe," she says. Why is she looking at me like that? Did she that wink before? " Are you crying?"

Am I? I put my hands to my face. Yes. I'm crying. Jeez. I wipe away all of my tears.

"Sorry." I say.

"That's okay. Crying is good. I won't ask why you were crying, because you probably don't want to tell me." Wise woman. "I feel like that all the time. Every year on the anniversary of my parents' death, I break down and cry for hours at a time. I think about how bad life is. How can the parents of a young girl die, leaving her alone? Life is cruel that way…"

"Please just shut up!"

Where did that come from?

"Chloe, you're not yourself."

"How would you know?" I murmur.

"I'm your best friend, Chloe. I know that you would never yell at me."

"My best friend…" I repeat. I put on my brave little toaster face. "Yeah. You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," she says. She wants to say more. She wants to ask me for a favor, but I'm not in the mood. I open the door. I'm ready to run to my best friend, my car, and speed home, eat a tub of chocolate ice cream and cry into my pillow. But instead I hit a girl in the face with the door.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" I say. I help her up. She looks frazzled, but no damage is done. "Are you okay?"

"Fine!" she says, and pushes me off of her. She looks down at her books she dropped. I bend down to help her pick them up. "No, don't."

Why would somebody refuse help with fallen books? Because they're trying to hide something. Everybody has something to hide. This girl has an envelope.

I pick it up, and she tries to grab it from me. "Stop, that's mine!" she says.

"No, it isn't," I respond. "It's clearly addressed to me."

She turns to run. But she can't get away from Chloe Sullivan. Not when she's friends with a big buff football player.

Clark, AKA "Just In Time Guy" , steps in front of her, stopping her from running off. He looks like a giant compared to her short slim body. He grabs her shoulder and pulls her to me.

"Hmmm, an envelope addressed to me. You weren't planning on slipping this under the door, were you? You are clearly new at the threatening murder game, and take it from somebody who has seen many people who's hobbies included 'Kill Chloe', slipping a note under the door isn't the smartest move. You would never have time to get away by the time I opened the door. So next time-"

She interrupts me. "Threaten to kill you?" she manages to squeak out. She looks terrified. "I don't want to kill you."

Oops. I open the envelope. "If you want the secret about your mother to stay a secret, you'll publish this poem in the next addition of The Torch," it reads. Attached is a very long poem. I don't read it, but I'm sure I know what it's about. She loves somebody, her love is just like an enduring flame, without her love her soul is like the abyss. Blah, blah, blah.

"Oh how cute!" I say. "You were trying to blackmail me." I look over the note again. "Oh you even signed it, Jackie." She blushes. "Sure, I'll publish it." I chuckle.

"You will?" she asks. She beams.

"You will?" Clark asks.

"Yeah sure." I answer. "She deserves it. She went through all the trouble of trying to find out something to blackmail me." I turn to her. "Using the crazy mother was a good idea. Myself, I would have gone with the undying love I have for a certain football player, but the mom thing is just as good."

Clark blushes. But then suddenly he's over his embarrassment and onto rage. "How can you blackmail somebody who is obviously sad and confused about the situation with her family?" he asks Jackie. Poor Jackie shrinks another inch. " How would you like it?" She shrinks again as she tells him that she wouldn't. But he isn't satisfied. Now it's my turn to be yelled at. "And how can you be so calm? A guy who tried to kill you is offering to be your friend as if he earned it. Somebody is going to try to kill you on Friday. And now somebody blackmailed you. And you just take it? That's not how the Chloe I know would act. She'd be angry and sad. She'd want answers.

"It seems to me that all you want is it to be all over."

I think long and hard about everything he's just said. The silence between us has made me painfully clear that this has not been a private conversation. Our fellow students stare at us. Lana is standing in the doorway, silent for once.

"Why are Monday Clark and Tuesday Clark so different?" I ask him.

"Stop trying to change the subject."

No way. I'm not in the mood to talk about me. Anyway, it's my turn to have a confrontation.

"Yesterday, you wanted me to help you on your Lionel Luthor salvation mission, even though just the thought of Lionel sends a rush of shivers down my spine that you wouldn't even believe. Even this morning, you were happy that he helped me out with the car. But now…"

I can't say it aloud. He's not the same that's for sure. I want to say that something worth the old wall of weird is going on, but I can't. Something happened to Clark in the time that he told me that he hadn't finished his article and the time that I gave him the note.

He's right. The Chloe he knows would want answers. And now I do. What happened to Clark in those two hours to make him go from insensitive jerk to the best friend that I always hoped and dreamed for?

"Chloe, life is too short," is all he says in response. I smile. Life is too short.

He's right. Life is too short to have most of your most intimate conversations with your car. Life is too short to have unanswered questions stay unanswered. Life is too short to not say everything on your mind.

I turn to Lana and hand her the poem. "Type this up, please. Put it under the fold. I'll also need you to finish formatting the rest of the paper for me. You know how to do it. Thanks."

I don't give her time to respond. She doesn't look too happy. "What will you be doing?"

"Whatever the hell I feel like doing."

Life is too short. In my case, it might be shorter then usual if I don't find answers soon. From now on, I'm not doing anything I don't want to do. Somebody else can pick up the trash.


	9. A Luthor Hissy Fit

Just Shut Up Already!

Disclaimer: Somebody else owns Smallville. But I do own the WB if anybody wants to buy some stock. No? What a shocker!

Summary: The author of the story tries not to be so serious because it gives her headaches. Some checklists are made, characters that viewers know and love are bashed, and somebody abandons all of her work and responsibilities to makes a piece of this world feel a little less angry.

A/N: That last chapter seemed to serious and out there for my liking and I may change it, depending on how lazy I am. I have written this chapter way before I intend on uploading it. In fact the last two chapters were all written on this very same night. It's 11:12 PM and if in the morning this all reads like rubbish it will be deleted and nobody will ever read these ramblings.

It's five o'clock and I'm sitting in The Talon. I'm not doing homework. I'm not working on an article. I'm not doing anything that can't be put off until tomorrow. Suddenly I realize that my whole life I've had a terrible headache, but never knew it because it has always been there.

Right now, all I'm doing is sipping a cup of Joe and making a checklist. I have things that I want to do and questions that I want answered. One, find a way to visit Mom. I don't care how crazy she is. I don't care if she thinks I'm a large yellow chicken. I need to see her. I'll cluck and flap my arms like wings if need be.

Two, Find out who wants me dead. Possibly before Friday.

Three, Find out if Lionel Luthor is even a fraction of the reason that somebody wants me dead. If so, have him arrested again. If not, make up something to have him arrested for.

"Chloe," Lex says, sneaking up on me and my laptop.

"Lex, what a surprise." Not. "What brings you here? Besides that fact that you own the place?"

He chuckles. "I just got back from the school," Four, find out what 'business' Lex has at the school. Screw what I said before, I want to know. "and I heard that you and Clark put on quite the show."

"Oh yeah? And who told you that?"

"Lana," he says. "I don't know what is wrong with those teachers at that school of yours. She looks swamped with work. She was in The Torch office, her hair messed up, hunched over the computer, mumbling something about a deadline. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you two had a body switch or something."

I smirk. Sometimes life slaps you in the face and sometimes life gives you a nice visual of Lana Lang getting what she deserves.

Lex sits in front of me. "Do you feel like talking?"

"About what?" I ask.

Lex looks disappointed. "About my father's visit to you."

"His visit…" What is he talking about?

"At Bob's mechanics."

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot." I say.

"Almost forgot? It happened yesterday night."

"It did? I coulda sworn that it was longer then that."

I have no time for banter. Five, find out why Jason winked at me.

"Chloe, you'd tell me if my father was bothering you, wouldn't you?"

No. "Of course."

"Good."

Six, find Miss LeMonte a man. Then she'll finally have the heart to give me an 'A'.

"I enjoyed our conversation yesterday. It's good to get some things off my chest," he says. He's still talking. Here comes that headache. Jeez, Lex, get over it. That was like six chapters ago. "So, I do think that it would be best if you did the same."

"What do you want to know?"

"I don't want to know anything." Who does he think he's kidding? "I just don't want you to feel like you're trapped in a world where everything you think and feel has to stay inside."

Yesterday, or even a couple of hours ago, I would have spilled my guts. I would have wept about how cruel life has been to me. I would cry about how, even as an only child I'm still the ignored child in my home. Especially if Lana or Lois are over. I would explain that sometimes I have daydreams about the times my dad would hold me in his arms and say that everything was going to be okay. Even if in those times we were both in mortal danger, it was still better then the bitter silence in the house since I confronted him about not telling me about Mom.

I would tell him that no matter how hard I try, I can't get over Clark. I can think about all the times he has let me down, but in my heart I know that he may be the only man I will ever love.

I would tell him that I don't think as much about my future as a journalist, because I'm more worried about if I'm going to have a future.

But I don't say any of this stuff. I'm a changed girl. I refuse to feel sorry for myself anymore.

Seven, find out what happened in the two hours that made Clark change from the jerk who makes me work on The Torch practically alone, to the guy who wants to fly me off of the cliff of despair that I am currently standing on, and land me to safety.

Wow that sounded a lot like that Jackie girl's poem.

"I don't feel like that anymore, Lex. You're a couple hours too late for that. So ask me what you want to know and I'll tell you. I've got no time for you to try to trick me into saying what you want to hear without actually asking. So get on with it."

"I wasn't trying to…" He sighs and concedes. "What did my father say to you yesterday?"

Hmm… what a surprise.

"He wants redemption."

"Redemption?"

"He wants my to say that I forgive him for all of his terrible crimes. I won't. I told him as much and then we parted ways."

Lex stands up from the table and freezes. He's thinking. I have no idea if I can continue my work or if I should wait for him to finish. Some people (like myself) can think and do other things at the same time, but not in this case. When a Luthor has a thought, the world freezes.

"Thank you, Chloe," he says, finally. If he had a hat, he would have tipped it, but he doesn't have a hat, so he nods at me and leaves.

That is just what I imagined a Luthor hissy fit to be like.

Eight, get your hair died brown. I hear it's the fad. And all the guys in the stupid town are obsessed with brunettes. In every other place in the world, blondes are a man's biggest fantasy. But not in Chloe Sullivan's world.

I look at my watch. I've still got four and a half-hours before I'm expected home. But this week I'm throwing all of my responsibilities out the window. I'll make it an even five.


	10. Damn You, Dateline!

Just Shut Up Already! 

Disclaimer: Reading this story may cause dizziness.

Summary: Big One Oh. Yay! Chloe knocks off some stuff off of the soon to be infamous checklist.

A/N: I'm sleepy. I might put up chapter seven sometime soon, so you can see how behind I am in posting. Or maybe how ahead I am in writing. Depends on how you look at it. I'll probably post when I get 25 reviews, but by the time this chapter comes up that point will be moot. So I'll stop typing about it. Anyway, happy tenth birthday, Just Shut Up Already, may you have at least ten more before I forget about you completely.

I'd start from the top of my list but seem to have misplaced my laptop (gasp!) so, I'm just going to start with the first one that I remembered. Too bad that it's the scariest one on the list. Which is probably why I've had it on my mind all night. Of the hundred plus things I thought up for the list, seeing Mom is by far the scariest thing I will ever have to do.

It's six AM on a Wednesday morning. Wednesday is far better then Tuesday which was far better then Monday.

I drive toward Metropolis. Did I mention that it's six AM? Yeah. I'm up early. I've got so much to do in the two or three days I have left. This all depends on whether that murderer guy plans on killing me in the morning, afternoon, or night. He didn't really specify.

I spent all last night avoiding Clark. Well, I was avoiding people in general, but mostly Clark. I ran into him twice, but abruptly ran away each time. He wants to investigate who wants to kill me, but I'd rather save that for later.

That's by far the most dangerous thing on my list and I'd rather keep that for later. I don't want to die before getting a few things done first.

So I'm on the highway, making my way to Sunny Farm Insane Asylum. I somehow think that it won't be as welcoming as it sounds.

The guy in the car next to mine is talking to himself while doing a mini version of the macarena. I try to get away from his car but he is unavoidable. I speed up, he speeds up. I move into the next lane over, he copies me. I'm worrying now. This happens ever time I drive. Some crazy dude has to be going to the same exact place I am.

He turns his head and smiles at me. I see that he has a portable phone device thingy in his ear, but this doesn't comfort me much. But it does remind me to check my phone messages.

I keep one eye on the road and the other on my phone. I have eleven messages.

Message one, 4:36: "Chloe? It's Clark. Please call me back. It's important."

Message two, 5:08: "It's me again. Clark. I did some researching and it seems that Lionel Luthor has been in contact with the guy who wrote the note. I'm on my way over to talk to him. You were right about Lionel not being a changed man. I shouldn't have asked you to help me with my investigation. And I shouldn't have taken up the investigation in the first place. I'm sorry. I'll call you back. Call me if you get the message before I call you."

The crazy guy gets off at the stop ahead of mine. Too bad, he would have been a welcome addition to Sunny Farm.

Message three, 6:15: "Lionel's doing that thing where he pretends that he has no idea what I'm talking about. It must be a Luthor tradition. I don't know what to do next. I feel like I've hit a wall, there is no more leads. The police aren't helping, but what else is new? Please call me back. Oh yeah, and this is Clark."

Message four, 6:18: "Miss, Sullivan," Lionel's voice gets creepier everyday. "Mr. Kent visited me just a few minutes ago. If you want some information, talk to me. I'll tell you everything you want to know."

I promptly delete the message.

I get off at my exit. Sunny Farm should be only a seven-minute drive from here, according to MapQuest.

Message five, 7:00: "Chloe Sullivan? This is Officer Dan. We ran the note for fingerprints, but didn't find any. As far as we can tell this is just some prank from a fellow student, but since Lionel Luthor has been released we'll still watch out for anything. But I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Sigh.

Message six, 7:01: "It's Clark again. I'm getting frustrated here. Please call me back."

Message seven, 8:25: " I saw you on the street, Chloe," Clark says. "Why did you run away? Please call me. I'll be at home for the rest of the night."

Message eight, 9:10: "Come on, Chloe. There is no reason to avoid me." He sighs. "We need to talk."

That must have been the second time I ran away. Staying at home the rest of my night? Yeah right.

Message nine, 9:57: "No me gusta!"

Wrong number.

Message ten, 10:15: "Chloe, it's your father. Where are you? Your curfew was fifteen minutes ago, I'm worried. Where are- Oh nevermind, here you are."

I giggle to myself.

I stop the car in the parking lot of Sunny Farm. I listen to the last message.

Message eleven, 12:01: "Three days left," a deep voice says. "Hopefully they'll be eventful."

I open the door of the car. I refuse to think about that last message, but my legs don't move. I close the door again and dial Clark's number.

"Hello?" Mrs. Kent's sunny voice rings out.

"It's Chloe."

"Oh," she says. She attempts to cover up the receiver but doesn't do such a great job because I can hear her clearly. "Jonathan, wake up Clark."

"Let the boy sleep, Martha. You know how late he was up."

"Chloe is on the phone."

"Oh," Jonathan says. And the conversation ends there.

A few seconds later, "Chloe?" Clark's voice sounds almost panicked.

"That's my name, don't wear it out." I am so lame.

"Did you get my messages?"

"Oh, did you leave me a message? I must have missed it. Some crazy friend of mine left six messages on my cell phone."

"I was worried."

"Don't be. I'm going to be fine. I just have to deal with some stuff first. We'll get to the bottom of all of this stuff."

"How can you be so patient and calm?"

"Lots of practice."

"This shouldn't be the sort of thing that we are use to."

"I know," I say.

"I'll pick you up for school, if you want. We can try to find some leads together. Two heads are better then one."

"There is no denying that." I chuckle. "But I won't be at school today."

"What? Why not?"

"I have some stuff to deal with today. I'll try to be back later today. I need you to do me a favor."

"Sure."

"I got a call from the note writer. He says that I have three days to live. I want you to call Verizon and tell them to trace a call that I got at about midnight last night."

"I will."

"Thanks. I'll see you later."

"Wait." I wait. "This guy has your phone number now. The next thing you know, he'll have your house keys. Be careful."

"I will."

I hang up and if by magic, my legs work again. I get out of the car. I look at my watch. It's now 7:15 AM. Right on time. Funny how things work out that way.

"Hi, I'm Chloe Sullivan," I say to the nurse at the front desk. "I have an appointment to see my mother."

"Sullivan… Sullivan… Sullivan" she repeats as she looks down a list of names and finds mine. "Just this way."

I follow her. She doesn't seem as angry as I expected. Dateline always told me that the people at these kind of places are mean and like to beat their patients. But I guess you can't trust every journalist's word.

Maybe this isn't such a bad place for Mom to be. I throw away all plans to have her escape.

"I have to warn you," the nurse says. "She may seem a little sleepy. It's all the medication that she's on. But she'll hear everything you say. I don't know how much of it she'll understand but that's because of the disease, not the medication."

"I understand. I'm here more for me then I am for her."

"That's not a bad idea. You know, on her good days she talk about you a lot."

"She does?"

"All the time. You are just as beautiful as she described you."

"Thank you," I say. I'm instantly ashamed of all the times I thought my mother abandoned or forgot me. Even if I were to leave right now, this trip would be worth it.

The nurse leaves and within another minute Mom comes marching in, wearing white and pink hospital clothes.

"Mom?"

She sits down on a blue couch. I sit in front of her in a white plastic chair that looks like a clone of a chair that was in Bob's.

"Do you know who I am?" I ask.

"My daughter," she says. Her speech is slow and she speaks with no emotion whatsoever. "The nurse told me."

"Oh good."

"Did Gabe send you?"

When she says Dad's name I twitch a little. Seeing her makes me just a little more angry with Dad for keeping her from me.

"Dad? No. I came on my own."

"He told me that you'd be here."

"Dad called you?"

"Gosh no! Gabe wants the wolves to howl all night. Twelve plus Twelve told me."

"I don't understand."

She rolls her eyes. "Of course you wouldn't. You're too young."

"I'm eighteen, you know."

"Third year in a row."

If there was any doubt in my mind, it's gone. She's crazy.

"I want to say something, Mom." I pull the chair closer to her. "I'm so glad that this happened to you instead of me." She tilts her head to the side. Did that sound as conceited to her as it did to me? "That is, I'm glad that you don't have to see me like this. This pain I feel seeing you here isn't something I would ever want to put onto anybody else.

"So if I have to go through all this sadness to save you or Dad or Clark or anybody else from it, I guess it's worth it."

"Gabe doesn't like my Mac and Cheese."

Maybe she doesn't understand what I've just said, but now I feel like a philosopher. It's good to feel those selfish feelings of thankfulness in times sadness. It's great that I feel sad, because it means that I'm still alive. Which means that my dad and friends won't feel sadness over my death.

I guess that doesn't really make a lot of sense unless you're in my head. But I suddenly, care a great deal about not dying on Friday.

I smile at Mom. "I'm sure your Mac and Cheese is great."

"No. No it isn't."

I let out a laugh. I let her talk for a while. She talks a lot about a guy named Twelve plus Twelve and somebody named Three plus Nineteen who she apparently likes a lot. I figure that these are people in the asylum, so I don't ask. When she laughs, I laugh along. Before long, our hour is done. A new nurse escorts her to her room and then escorts me back into the lobby.

"Who are those number people she kept talking about?" I ask her.

"I don't know, but she speaks of them a lot. Maybe it's a code… or numbers that she connects certain people with." I nod and head out. "Come back soon. This was good for her."

Yeah, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside too.

I look at my watch. It's eight thirty. I pull out my phone, as I slide into my car. I call The Torch office. A frantic sounding Lana answers.

"Hello?"

"Lana? It's Chloe. Thanks for the work you did for me yesterday."

"Oh Chloe, I was here until nine. I didn't realize how hard running a school newspaper was. How do you handle it?"

"Well, Lana, there is something I never told you before. I'm a superhero. I can fly and work in super speed." I say. "I need you to do something else for me, since I won't be coming back to school day."

"Chloe, I don't know. It is an awful lot of work."

"I know, I know. But I did do all that researching about Jason. That was hard work." I should feel guilty about lying, but I don't.

"Oh alright. What is it you need me to do?" I give her a list of things.

I can almost hear her faint over the phone.

A/N2: That was the longest chapter to date and probably longest chapter there will ever be. Happy Tenth, fanfiction of mine!


	11. Newsflash! Chloe is a zombie!

Just Shut Up Already!

Chapter 11

Summary: Chloe has been threatened. Again. And again. But enough about that! Did you see Lana Lang's new coat? It's so pretty! She's so pretty!

A/N: Yes, I know. It's been a really long time. It's not my fault, I swear! I haven't had a computer of my own in 8 months, and then after that I couldn't write more chapters because I had 2 chapters unposted on my broken computer and I hate rewriting. Also, the Smallville gang is all in college now, but if you don't mind a little blast from the past, and some story lines that have been dropped and forgotten (note that I didn't say resolved) from the show, then please tell me if this is worth continuing.

I call Clark from the parking lot of the Sunny Farm Insane Asylum. He gives me an update but it's really nothing new. The older, eviler Luthor has refused to reveal anything about my wannabe killer. But he insists that I should call him. So we can, like totally, talk about clothes and boys, I assume.

Which reminds me, I have a certain boy that I need to talk to. According to MapQuest, it'll take another forty minutes driving time to get to my destination and two hours to get back to Smallville. Not that I'm in a hurry to get back. In fact, it would probably be smart to skip town for a while.

But no bastard is going to run me out of my town. It may be Boreville, but it's my home. So screw you Mister Killer Man. Screw you Luthors. Screw you Miss LeMonte. It'll take more than threats and annoyance to scare me. Look at me, I've been friends with Lana Lang for almost four years.

Mrs. Ross looks surprised when I knock on the door.

"Chloe! Oh my, we thought you were dead!"

Soon, Mrs. Ross. Soon.

"We went to your funeral over the summer," she yammers, not looking me in the eyes. Maybe she thinks I'm a zombie. Brains! BRAINS!

I'm sorry for that. I have no idea what just came over me.

"Oh yeah. That. It's a long story. Abridged version: I was in Lex Luthor's version of the witness protection services. So, uh, gotcha!"

I'm feeling a little awkward here. But I have to admit, that 'gotcha' thing is pretty freaking hilarious. She doesn't seem to get the joke. She just looks, I don't know. Sad?

"Is Pete home?"

She seems relieved. She calls for him while ushering me inside. The house is a complete replica of the Smallville home they had all those years ago. I remember hanging out on that same purple couch talking about Clark's obsession with Lana or Clark's latest antics or…. well basically we talked about Clark. No wonder he doesn't call me. Still, that's no excuse.

Pete freezes when he sees me. "Chloe. What are you doing here?"

"Brains! BRAINS!" I say, arms hung in front of me. He looks confused. He looks at me like I'm crazy. "Sorry, inside joke." Inside joke with myself! Now that's pathetic.

"Okay…." He looks around the room, nervously.

"I take it by your reaction to me that you knew I was alive."

"Clark told me."

"And you didn't tell your mom? I guess it just slipped your mind."

I'm about to go into a rant, but Pete interrupts. "Chloe, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Shouldn't you?"

"School here is a little different. I go Monday, Tuesday, and Fridays in my senior year."

"Ah."

Awkward moment.

Very awkward. We never had these moments before.

"Is there something you wanted to say, or was this a social visit because I, uh,-"

I cut him off. "Save it. I want answers to my questions, then I'll be out of your hair." Oops, right don't mention hair. " I'll be out of your life if that's what you want."

"Chloe…."

"Save it. Why did you never call me? And why are you acting so cold right now? And if the answer is because you hate me, then why did you go to my funeral?"

"Chloe, I don't hate you."

Tears boil in my eyes. They sting, but damn it, they aren't coming out. Not again. "Please explain all of this to me. I'm having a very bad week and I don't think I can handle not getting my way."

"If I explain everything, then will you leave?"

I sigh. "Yes."

"Promise, no matter what?"

"Yes!" Did that sound too eager?

"A couple of months before your death fake out, Lionel Luthor paid me a visit at school. He, uh, said he wanted to destroy you…. mentally. If I contacted you, he'd kill you. Or, um, have you killed. When you died, or um I guess not really but, uh, I felt really guilty, because you know…. I always did what he said, but maybe if I had contacted you, you would have been safe."

I don't quite agree. I've been warned about my death recently and have so far done squat.

"When Clark said you were alive I, well I guess the word relieved can't really explain it. But your attempted murder proved to me that even from jail Luthor could get to you. And now that he's out…"

"Recently he told me he called everybody and reneged his threats."

"He did but about an hour later, somebody else called and said that he knew about Lionel Luthor's threat and he was 'reinstating the threat'. You would be dead. And so would my mother and father."

Brain can't compute.

"I'm so sorry, Chloe." He's the only person I really believe when he says that. "You know I would never hurt you."

"I know, I know." I smile. He smiles. It's a very cute moment.

I won't argue with him. I won't tell him that he shouldn't buy into threats.

I kiss him on the cheek. "Don't worry about your parents and don't worry about me."

"But,"

"Don't worry," I repeat. "I'm on the case."


	12. We Silly Girls

Just Shut Up Already

Chapter 12

Summary: Chloe has been having a bad week. Somebody wants to kill her. But now, Clark is paying attention to her. This is a good thing. Hey, maybe the week isn't all that bad.

A/N: Mantra- I will finish this! I will finish this! After that I'm going to go back to all of my other, many, many other unfinished fics. I'm kind of upset because I had two really great chapters (11 and 12) that will be replace by the new and improved (?) 11 and 12, but still, writing it over sucks. I want you to care! Why won't you care!

Here's a recap for all of you will a score board. Monday I woke up and felt like I would be having a bad day. I had a bad day. My biggest fear was that Lionel Luthor would get out of jail. He got out of jail. I prayed he wouldn't want to kill me. He claims he doesn't want to kill me. I feel ignored by all my friends. All of a sudden, Clark cares.

I wanted Lana to suffer (I know, I know. Bad friend!) and now she's switched places with me.

I've figured it out.

Maybe I'm a meteor freak. My will be done.

Nah. But this moment right now, it's pretty good.

"Chloe, when are you coming back? I don't think I could handle this any more. I never knew how much you did," says Lana. She's panting. I feel good.

"I'll be back tomorrow, I promise. I have a lead on the Jason story." Bad friend! Bad! "Lana, I know you can do this if you put your mind to it."

"I feel like my mind is going to explode. Can't we switch?" Oh dear, Lana. I think we already have. "You work on The Torch and I'll find out stuff about Jason."

"No, no, Lana," I say in my most patronizing, condescending voice. "I want to do this for you. This is what best friends are for."

I hang up before she can say any more. I wasn't exactly lying. I am working on the Jason story. But not what Lana expects.

"Jason Teague, we meet again."

"Chloe Sullivan, we meet again."

"How are things, Jason?" I make sure to say his name again. I need to let him know that I'm on to him. "With life? With Lana?"

He frantically looks around. "She's not here is she?"

I love today.

"Lana? No."

He sighs with relief. "So what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Pleasure? Not so much." This may seem weird, but go with me on this. "I want to know why you sent me a note saying I'd die on Friday."

"What? Me? No." He gives me the most comforting smile I have ever seen. I can see why a girl might like him. I have new found respect for Lana. She sure knows how pick a guy. Of course, I have no respect for any of these guys. Why do they like her? Oh right, the hair. The smile. The…. Lananess.

"But you know about the note?"

"I heard rumblings."

"From Lionel Luthor, I assume."

"From my mother, who heard rumblings from Lionel Luthor."

"And where did Lionel Luthor hear rumblings from?"

"Beats me."

"And this is why you winked at me."

"No."

Hmmm.

"Then, why?"

"I thought you looked foxy in that skirt."

What did I say? I think it, it happens.

He gives me a playful nudge. I blush. I hate that do not have the super human ability to suppress my blushing.

"Tell Lana that I'm really close to finding out the true identity of my father. She'll really love that."

"What are you really doing?"

He gives me another wink and slowly backs away until he is at his car. He gets in and drives away leaving me alone in the University parking lot. It's getting dark. This is the universes cue for me to go home.

Something inside me is telling me to go home. There are still so many things I want done, but if Friday really is my last day, I may not be able to finish them all. This instinct, though….

I drive home. My beautiful, wonderful car makes her beautiful, wonderful turns while playing some beautiful wonderful music. A thought occurs to me. If I die on Friday, who will take care of her?

No. Don't think like that.

The lights are on in the house, so I take it that Dad is home. Either that or we have some burglars that really don't care about our electricity bill. Money is tight, you bastards!

"Dad, are you home?"

"Chloe," he says simply. He is sitting at the dinner table that we don't use anymore, looking at the bills we can't pay anymore. I stare at him, waiting for something more than an acknowledgment of my existence. He gets the hint. "How was school?"

"I didn't go."

"Oh," he says. Didn't you hear me, tears? There is no room for you in my life right now.

Dad goes back to staring at the bills. I'm still standing here, just staring.

"Anything else?" he asks. Clearly he's having a bad day, Chloe. This is not about you. This is about his lack of a job. Sure, that may be your fault, seeing as how you pissed off Lionel Luthor, but this moment of bitterness is not about you.

"No, I guess not." I turn toward the stairs. I spot something that has been missing for almost all day. "My laptop. Where did you find it?"

"Somebody dropped it off."

"Somebody?" I ask, turning back around. "Who?"

"Whoever it was rung the doorbell and then ran off. Maybe you should be more careful with your possessions. Especially expensive possessions."

"Okay." I turn back to the stairs. Then I stop. Screw his bad mood. This is my week. On Saturday he can be pissy, but until then, this week belongs to me.

I walk back into the room. He is still staring at the bills. Yes, I feel bad about what I'm about to do. No, I won't stop.

"Why didn't you ever tell me about Mom?"

"God, Chloe. We already went over this."

"No, you gave me the runaround. I want answers. Real answers. Why did you let me believe that she abandoned me?"

He sighs. He gives in. I win, but I'm not so sure I'll feel much like a winner after this conversation.

"I didn't want you to worry. If you knew that your mother was up at Sunny Brooke-"

"Sunny Farm," I interrupt.

"Right. If you knew she was there, you might want to visit her. I've visited her. It's not something I want to put you through."

"I saw her today."

He sighs again. "No."

"I wanted to see her. You shouldn't have taken that away from me. I felt abandoned. I felt alone."

"You were never alone, you had me. You have me."

"No, I really don't. Dad, you should look in a mirror. You always look tired. You are always evasive. The only time you ever perk up is…. well, when Lois or Lana is over." I put my head down. Maybe I don't really want to hear this.

"Oh Chloe. Did you think….? I'm a bad father." I step closer to him, hoping he'll take this as a sign that I could never and would never think that.

"Sometimes I do feel like when Lana or Lois is over, you, I don't know, act happier."

"I'm sorry Chloe. I never meant for you to feel like I cared more about those two silly girls then you."

I sniffle. "They are really silly."

"Yeah," he says. He perks up, puts down the bills and looks me in the eyes for the first time in a long time. "I'm going to make dinner. Any requests?"

"Mom said that she used to make me this Mac and Cheese…."

"Oh, you don't want that. It's awful."

I smile. "I'd like to try it."

He grudgingly agrees. We eat at the dinner table like a family in the cheesy 60s sitcoms. For a couple of minutes we forget about bills and crazy psycho killers and play family.

Oh and the Mac and Chess…. It's terrible.


	13. That Oughtta Shut Her Up

Just Shut Up Already

Chapter 13

A/N: Okay, so thanks for the reviews. Thank you "random person I don't know" for your, er, enlightening discussion with…. yourself. I was truly entertained… and a little afraid.

It's Thursday morning. The sunlight comes through my window and nearly blinds me. I glance over at my newly returned laptop. Last night I didn't get a chance to look through the files and see what the deviant did to my precious belonging. Whoever stole it is going to pay. That's it! It's going on my list.

I drag myself out of my beautiful, safe bed and over to my desk. I feel a great surge of pity wash over me when I see that my list of things to accomplish by the weeks end is not quite as prioritized as I remember it.

Number 1: Find Mom. (Check.) Number 2: Find out why Jason winked at me. (Check.) Number 3: What business does Lex have at school? (No check.) Number 4: Find out who wants to kill me. I could have sworn that was higher up on the list.

Ahhh. I remember now. Before the damned thing got stolen, I moved a few things around. Okay, I'll admit it, yesterday and Tuesday night I wasn't exactly feeling afraid of the big scary threatener, but as I scan down the list….

Number 5: Die hair brown. Lana, grrr…

Number 6: Find Miss LeMonte a man.

Number 7: Talk to Pete. Slap if necessary. (Check, and I'll just delete that last part.)

Number 8: What happened to Clark between when I saw him on Monday to when I saw him on Tuesday?

Number 9: What are Lionel Luthor's true intentions?

Number 10: Die.

Hmmmm…. I don't remember putting that last one in. Gulp.

Okay, don't freak out, Chloe. So the murder- wannabe had your computer. It's not like you keep a journal. It's not like your deepest darkest secrets are hidden in a Word file.

Doh! Why did I have to keep pictures of Clark on my favorites file? Now, that's just asking for trouble.

Doh! squared. I saved all the encrypting codes in a document on my desktop. Every time I snuck into LuthorCorp files through the 'net and every time I did something extremely illegal on this wonderful machine, it was saved in my web history which any moron could figure out how to access.

This sucks!

School looks the same. It's always the same. What happened to that enlightenment I had yesterday? Am I already jaded from a stroll through the cheerleaders and math geeks who don't have threats on their lives?

I spot Clark out of the corner of my eye as he heads right towards me. "Chloe, you're back."

"Yeah." I am a girl of few words.

He pauses. This is the part I usually jump in with a wall of weird moment or something wacky, after which he says I'm overreacting or crazy and then Lana interrupts us, I'm ignored and then I hear a swoosh noise and Clark is gone. It's a fun game I play everyday. But I'm not in the mood for a game.

He takes the hint and continues the conversation himself. "Did you have a nice day off?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it a day off. In fact it felt like a lot of work. Well, there was a lot of driving, at least."

"I've been trying to get a hold of Lex, but he wasn't picking up his phone and he wasn't home."

"Lex is being mysterious. Ooooh! Smallville continues to surprise us." Okay, enough of the sarcasm, Chloe. "Don't worry Clark. All we need to do is not want to be annoyed, and there he'll be to destroy our wishes."

Okay, now it's enough.

Lana strolls up behind Clark and taps him on the shoulder. Yeah, this is fun.

"Hi, Clark. Hi."

"Lana," he says, and then turns back to me. "I'll swing by his house after school again, if you want to come."

Lana's face flattens. "Clark, I was wondering if you would help me with something. You see I have this tattoo…."

But he ignores her. What is happening?

"Why are we looking for Lex, again?" I ask in order to end this horrible awkward moment.

"I saw him with his father in a very heated discussion. I think he knows something."

"Fine, I'll go with you. I meet you after 6th."

I walk off. I hear footsteps follow me.

"Clark, please, I'll see you after school." But it isn't Clark. It's Lana. And she's pissed.

"So, did find out about Jason?" she says. "The thing he isn't telling me?"

"I have to go Lana, I'll talk to you later." I start to walk away, but she grabs my arm. Now I'm afraid for my life. "I skipped English yesterday and Miss LeMonte is going to kill me for not doing trash pick up."

"You spoke to him, didn't you? What aren't you telling me? Why does everybody keep secrets?"

"Lana, I really don't know. If you didn't realize, I have people keeping secrets from me too. Somebody wants to kill me tomorrow and there are two very skeevy Luthor's on the case apparently. Everybody knows more about who wants me dead than I do. But please, lets focus on you."

She gasps. "Somebody wants you dead? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm a bad person." I've hurt her feelings and now I have one more thing to feel bad about. "I'm sorry Lana. We haven't exactly been close lately."

"I know. I've been dealing with a lot of drama. First my parents die. Nell abandoned me. Whitney died. Meteor freaks kept trying to kill me. Clark kept all sorts of secrets. Then when I went to Paris, I got a weird tattoo. Now Jason is keeping all sorts of secrets."

My jaw hurts. I'm getting lockjaw.

"I'm sorry Lana."

"Oh Chloe, I know you didn't mean to snap at me. I bet your going through a lot."

"Oh boy am I. First my crush goes after an annoying, ditzy cheerleader. Then I get attacked by various meteor freaks. One of my best friends moves away and ignores me for over a year. My dad gets fired because I wouldn't play Lionel Luthor's mind games and we have troubles paying the bills. Then after putting away the less attractive, older Luthor, he has my house blown up with my father and me inside. Then after narrowly surviving, I have to live in witness protection. I find out my mother didn't abandon me, only lives in a looney bin." I twirl my hair and put on my ditzy voice. "And Clark is keeping all these secrets from me."

I pull my arm away.

"Chloe," she starts.

"Oh and to top it all off, your boyfriend winked at me because I am too sexy to be true. Talk about confusing."

That oughtta shut her up.


End file.
